the talk turned to lighting
back home
then
wind rain and hail
outside she smoked
he spoke
and the octopus squirmed
in his cage
conversations where
nothing happens
ain’t adequate
so morbidity ain’t
nothing
to me
this morning I notice
a bruise on my leg
I’m sick to my stomach
With fear
deep-vein thrombosis?
panic attack
breath short
some adventurer.
No comments:
Post a Comment